In Withdrawal

This feeling
A last wish
From a sinful kiss

As I leave you

As I feel you

Warmth slipping away
An ecstatic grip

From your lips
As your body begs
Me not to go away
But to continue kissing


If we could
We would slowly



It took so long to painstakingly
Choose what to carry
Into this moment

Hours upon hours of mental
Conditioning in preparation

It took no time to
Decide what to hold
For comfort

Clock ticking dully

Mere seconds upon seconds

For the door coming down
Windows shattering in

To feel the small star sting
Of a flashbang grenade
Sear my eyes

And watch my
Brothers die
From silent sights

Where all I can hear
Are the shouting men
And a cruel firefight

In my home
This sanctuary I could
Always come to

Crumbling to shambles
In few sets of seconds

Splintering wood
Imploding from drywall

Imagining the rimfire
Of a raider’s gun

And laughing
Machine gun

As they tear through our photos
Framed on the table beside me

More glass shattering
Cheap ceramic cups cracking
Under sonic tension

While I hide my ears
From the yelling and crying

Of my family on the ground
Somewhere near
Loud enough to clearly hear

Them beg and scream
While fluid on the floor
Below bodies stream

Wondering what horror I’ll see
When again
I can see

But before I can
My ears begin to ring



Holes formed
Never sealed
Rocks stuck in shoes we wield

Crude remarks
Vulgar gestures
No one cares for barren pastures

Or to look at the
Spires jutting off
The tall towers

Picturesquely preserved
Stature of a stone hawk

Loving every
Last thing
About the watching statues

Runoff from
Stone brick and mortar

Acid rain erodes
Carved aqueducts
And their gutters

Natural engravings
Off staving
Their craved pavings

Forever Seam

Forever Seam

This is the end.
That place you thought you’d never be.
Yes, this is that abyssal void.
A system of anarchy.
Where the ruler weaves the seams,
And you are lost to time.

No one knows about this time,
This place, this space, this end
Of the borderlands where you seem
To be where gravity can’t be.
Floating up in the anarchy,
Kissing the emptiness of that void.

This void,
Everyone knows that once is their time.
All bracing against the anarchy
Of misery and insurmountable ends.
In this place no one wants to be
You’re now a stitch in the forever seam.

Where gravity is void, it seems
Lost as a concept to the airless void.
Gravity thought it could never be
Without itself. There is no time
To keep in this place of ends,
Where the only reign is of king anarchy.

The riot response of nothing, the anarchy
Remains plotting its chaotic seams;
Bringing about sense’s end.
In this airless, lifting void,
Pressure waves are absent, lost to time;
In the place that should not be.

Time’s anarchical scene ceases to be.
Void’s seams tear and repair the anarchy.
Be it this end’s last time,
Weaving with a needle its own scrap seams,
With an tensionless needle in the void,
At the place where things make ends

Meet, and spitfire sparks seem
To cast out the seams, to be void
Of the things which weave their ends.